


Unspoiled

by ThornedDream



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Early Relationship, M/M, Mage Hawke - Freeform, Pre-Relationship, Purple Hawke, male hawke - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11911725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornedDream/pseuds/ThornedDream
Summary: A short little oneshot outlining the boundaries Fenris has with my mage Hawke, and how much their relationship is built on respect and trust. In other words: Hawke drinks that Respecting Fenris Juice.





	Unspoiled

Hawke had always known that Fenris was wronged at the hand of magic. He learned that the first night they met.

But when he finally learned just how much the word “wronged” entailed, it seemed like everything he knew was flipped upside down.

Garrett grew up as a boy in Lothering: a small and quiet village where little was disturbed- at least by magic. There were plenty of bandits, highwaymen, refugees, and then later darkspawn. But no blood mages, abominations, or maleficarum. In fact, if there were any other apostates besides his sister and himself, he never even knew of them.

He had been raised in a sheltered life where little evil was at the fault of mages.

So when he finally learned just how much torture, rape, and general suffering Fenris endured by none other than his kind, he had no idea what to say or do.

Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone use their wonderful, amazing, boundless gifts to ruin another life? It was cruel. It was senseless. It was evil. He at least knew that much.

He also knew that no matter how inexperienced he was in handling an issue like this, he had to be sensitive. This was new to him, but it was all too familiar with Fenris. He had to remember that, and he had to speak with care.

And no, not just because Fenris was gorgeous. Not just because the first moment Garrett saw the stunning elf wandering down the steps, he was shaded by the curtain of night and bringing shame upon the pale full moon and its company of stars. Not just because in that evening, Fenris had snatched not one- but two hearts.

No, it was simply because it was the right thing to do.

And so Garrett spoke with sensitivity and mindfulness, neither coddling nor invalidating the companion who had been through such torment. In return, Fenris accepted Garrett's use of magic when it proved necessary, and grew willing to acknowledge the difference between him and the corrupt monsters who plagued Tevinter like a curse.

And from this foundation of mutual respect grew a gradual magic all in its own: a warm affection harbored in the chest of both friends. It started off as a small bud, but soon blossomed into a radiant flower, rivaling the brilliance of the sun.

The glowing honey gaze of Hawke lingered on Fenris’s elegant form in battle, and more than once he failed to aim a fireball at his opponents correctly. The dusky elf had a beauty like silver that was all too distracting for the golden Champion of Kirkwall. He had always been gorgeous, Garrett knew, but it was only a few weeks into their early friendship did the disruptions prove both a curse and a blessing sent by the Maker.

And soon it reached a point when Garrett knew something had to be done. It happened when he encountered a blood mage who caught him off guard and nearly stopped the pulse of his heart, were it not for the saving grace of Fenris’s blade.

Damn those miserable blood mages.

And so only four nights later, at the end of his shenanigans in The Hanged Man with all his friends, Garrett offered to escort Fenris home.

“It would appear you are the one needing an escort home, Hawke,” was Fenris’s initial response. “Not I.” An entertained smile curved at the corners of the elf’s lips, and he pried the pint of ale from a drunken Garrett with ease.

But then Hawke huffed a breath and declared, “I’m fine! Never felt better!” and Fenris relented.

“Very well. You may accompany me.” Were it for the sake of Fenris or Hawke, no one could truly tell.

And so they walked along the streets of Kirkwall, and more than once Fenris offered his shoulder to help Garrett walk straight. Each time he was denied by the headstrong man.

When they reached Fenris’s mansion, after an hour of walking from Lowtown, Garrett peered up at the molded shingles of the roof and the rotting pillars. The windows were shattered, and the front door barely hung on its hinges. It was a web, torn apart to dangling threads once its venomous spider was ripped away.

“You know, you’re always welcome to come spend the night with me, Fenris. I’m only a block away.” It was intended as an honest and well meaning proposal, but the moment he saw those emerald eyes flown wide, he knew how it could be misinterpreted. He knew he made a horrible, horrible mistake.

Beneath the mask of Fenris’s silver gauntlet, Garrett swore he could see the beginnings of a pink glow. But the elf only moved closer to the door, then grumbled, “No, Hawke. I do not think…-”

Hawke had to fix this as soon as possible, but it was difficult with his own slowed thoughts. “No, not like that! I'm sorry. I-I only meant because this place seems to be falling apart. It's like the darkspawn pillaged here.”

Fenris smiled, amused and now understanding Hawke’s sentiment. “I'm aware,” he answered, then turned and took the edge of the door in his grip. “But this is where I must remain. Danarius may return, and I shall be here when he does.”

Hawke finally submitted with a grumble, then turned to leave before he remembered why he followed Fenris here. “Ah! I wanted to ask you, um…”

“Yes?” The beautiful elf asked, raising a brow.

“Would you… Would you be interested in a date? Sometime soon? With me?”

He said the words before he could think on them, and in the new silence stretching between them he felt regret begin to burn like a cut in his stomach.

Fenris blinked, pausing for a few good minutes, then asked “You wish to spend an evening with me? Exclusively? Doing what?” With each question his voice became more guarded and suspicious, and he began retreating behind his door, peeking with wide eyes beneath snowy bangs.

But this was not cute. Fenris was scared. Of him. Garrett fully succeeded in reminding himself that in only a few quick seconds.

“Anything you'd like!” As a way to reassure that he had no ill intentions, he rubbed the back of his neck, then offered, “I can take you shopping through the markets of Hightown. That job pushing bandits out from the docks gave me a bit of coin to spend.”

But Fenris didn't look impressed with that prospect, so Hawke instead suggested, “We can go hunting for slavers along the coast…”

Fenris raised a brow, looking a bit more interested, but he said nothing. Perhaps it was a good idea for a friendly trip with the rest of the crew, but not such a good idea for a date.

“Or I can take you to that bakery you love right at the edge of Lowtown- the one with the cinnamon apple muffins.”

That's when he saw the twinkle in Fenris’s eyes, and Hawke grinned, knowing he momentarily won the gorgeous elf’s favor.

“That does sound tempting…” Fenris admitted, and he looked up at the dazzling night sky as he contemplated the options in his mind.

Then he made a decision, and he met Hawke’s gaze to share it. Emerald met amber in a new warmth that sent a flutter in Garrett’s chest.

“I… am aware that this house is not the most inviting for guests,” Fenris started with a new pink over his cheeks. Knowing that this was due to bashfulness rather than anxiety, Hawke allowed himself to finally smile with adoration. “But I finished fixing the doors upon my iron stove, and have been meaning to try cooking my first meal here. Would you… perhaps… be interested in joining me?”

“Of course!” Hawke cheered with a thrilled grin over his face. “I’ll bring the muffins, some wine, and I’ll provide plenty of _cheese.”_ He added a dramatic, flirty, and oh-so-cheesy wink for extra emphasis on the last word.

Fenris giggled behind a hand, then smiled back at Hawke’s triumphant grin. “Very good. I am certain you will be hungover tomorrow, so I expect see you the next night afterwards. Sleep well, Hawke.” Maker knows he would need it.

And that’s how their first date was planned. It was a smooth evening with relatively few incidents, and Fenris had bought a total of four chicken thighs, two potatoes, and one head of lettuce to prepare and divide between the two.

Through the bustle of the market, Hawke had initially offered to pay for it all, but Fenris refused. “This is my first full meal I plan to prepare for myself, and I intend to pay with my own earned coin,” was his reasoning. It was a noble reasoning Hawke could understand and respect, and so he said no more on the topic. Fenris deserved this independence.

He did, however, bring over some flavorful spices from his own estate’s kitchen… That was something Fenris would agree to, since the practical elf saw no need in purchasing expensive spices he would never plan to use.

So Garrett sat on a sofa which creaked under his burly weight, and he smiled as the gorgeous view of Fenris working through the kitchen filled his rosey sight. Even as the elf worked, walking lightly over dull tile, Hawke was consumed in the deceitfully delicate forms and lithe muscles. The last few rays of sunset shone between neighboring houses and through the kitchen window, casting a halo around the heavenly creation.

No amount of dreaming could ever amount to a vision like this, surely.

But it was interrupted when Fenris began working spices into the skin of the chicken thighs, and Garrett understood the stove would be needed soon. So he stood from the sofa and approached the work of iron, then focused on concentrating heat to the palm of his hand.

With trained precision, the mage managed to bring a flame to his grasp in only a matter of seconds.

But Fenris jumped back, nearly dropping the tray of raw meat, then demanded, “No, Hawke! Stop.”

Immediately upon command, the flame was gone in a puff of smoke, and Hawke looked over a wide shoulder at the sight of a frightened Fenris. His voice was shaken, and his gaze dropped low to the floor. “I…- Forgive me. The battlefield is one exception, however…- Not in my house, please. Not here.”

Right, how could Hawke be so foolish? Guilt sank like thick molten ore in his stomach. “I’m sorry. I should have asked. This is your place and I-”

But Fenris shook his head, wanting to discuss the issue no more. Instead he reached behind the back of the stove, pulling out a pair of flint and steel he had tucked away there, and he handed the tools to Hawke.

Without words, the mage instantly understood the request, then opened the doors to the stove to begin his work. It was more challenging than simply igniting the stove with his magic, but that no longer mattered. Fenris deserved peace of mind.

The meal took a bit longer to prepare than what was initially planned, considering how Fenris and Hawke had become distracted. Garrett “accidentally” flung a cube of Orlesian Judiere goat cheese at the elf, which earned him a smacked face-full of lettuce leaf. Thus began a battle of food, and in the middle of such process, they had completely forgotten the chicken and potatoes. They overcooked on the stove, but only by a minute, and the effects were only truly found in the skin of both items. The meal still tasted like success and victory.

But in the middle of eating, Fenris looked up from his plate, then sighed and spoke in a gentle voice, contrasting the competitive tone he had during their kitchen war. “Thank you.”

“Hm?” Hawke still had a mouth full of potato when he heard this, so he worked to chew and swallow the root down, then finally asked for clarification. “What for?”

“For this evening. For… obeying me the moment I asked you to stop your magic.”

“No, enough.” Garrett shook his head, then worked at slicing another bite for himself out of the baked potato. “You shouldn't have needed to ask in the first place.”

Fenris lightly smiled, a new brightness and warmth in his gaze, and that's when he finally understood… “You are a good man, Hawke.”

The Champion who had saved the city so many times, and treated Fenris with more care than he had received in a lifetime, only sheepishly smiled, then gave a light shrug of his shoulders. “Well, I try to be. But thank you.”


End file.
